Marriage Skits for Laughter and Learning
produced
by
Nancy Landrum
A Dog Story
by Nancy Landrum
The boys and I were camping in the mountains of Northern California with extended family. We went to the nearby town one afternoon to do laundry. Peter, age four, with his brother and cousins, wandered down the sidewalk to visit the pet shop.While waiting for the wash cycle to finish, I saw Peter weaving his way through the corridor between washers and dryers, dodging laundry baskets and women folding underwear. He had a little puppy pressed against his chest and a big wet spot on his shirt. His eyes were huge and pleading. “Mommy, can we take this puppy home?”
My heart sank. I didn’t like dogs. When I was 7 years old I was caught in the middle of a dog-fight. My arm got in the way of snapping jaws. I still had the scars. After my husband died, I’d tried two different times to provide my boys with a dog—both times were disasters. I didn’t want to try again. It was hard, however, to just say “No” to the longing in my son’s eyes, so I gave him an answer that I thought was safe. “Peter, if you really want a dog, you will have to ask God to change my heart because right now, I don’t want a dog, so my answer is no.”
I knew my child. If he pestered about something constantly, it was relatively unimportant—a fleeting desire in his little heart. If he brought up a subject once in a great while, it was something that resided deeper within—something much more important to him. Every four to six months he would quietly approach me and ask, “Mommy, can we get a dog?” Each time I repeated my answer that I didn’t like dogs, didn’t want to take care of a dog, didn’t want to get stuck with training, or cleaning up, or feeding a dog. I’d always soften the blow by adding, “If you really want a dog, you’ll have to ask God to change my heart.” Three years went by. Peter refined his dream. On the rare occasions when he would mention the subject, I heard that he now wanted a large dog with many colors and spots because dogs of only one color were “boring.”
For reasons unimportant to this story, I decided to fence the back half of our quarter-acre lot. The morning after the chain link had been installed, I looked at the enclosed backyard. I was startled when this thought popped, unbidden, into my mind, “What a perfect place for a large dog!” Oh, no! I couldn’t think that! I don’t want a dog! I shrugged it off. Nevertheless, a strange thing began to happen. I spontaneously began to wake up at 5:30 a.m. every day longing for a dog! I’d lay in bed telling myself I was crazy and reciting all the reasons why I didn’t want a dog! After a long 2 weeks of this aggravating routine, I took the boys to a pet shop to buy an aquarium and some gold fish in hopes that the acquisition would quell my dog impulses. While they were choosing fish, two fawn-colored boxer puppies in a cage reached out and grabbed my heart. I stifled my reaction so the boys wouldn’t see. I paid for the fish and we left, but I couldn’t exorcise those puppies from my mind. Even though they were monochromatic in color and had no spots, I really wanted one of those boxer puppies.
Finally I thought, “O.K. I give up. If one of those puppies is still there one week from today, I’ll go back and get it,” but after only three days, I couldn’t wait any longer! While the boys were at school I drove to the pet shop. They were both gone! Both had been sold! I was heart-broken. I got in the car and, to my embarrassment, nearly cried. Part of me was incredulously watching this drama . . . what was happening to me? Didn’t I know that as soon as we got a puppy home and it had an “accident” on the carpet or chewed up my favorite flowers I’d regret it? Even so, I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
I went straight home from the pet store and opened the Yellow Pages. I found a boxer breeder who had puppies that were ready to be weaned. One of the puppies had poor conformation for a show dog so the breeder was willing to sell her as a pet. Although I wondered about the (assumed) “boring” color and no spots, the Force that was behind this compulsion seemed to have honed in on boxers, so I went with it.
A nice lady opened the door to my knock. I barely greeted her before my attention was riveted on a puppy sitting quietly in the hallway behind her.I heard the breeder say that this was the one that was for sale. As I remember it, there were several other puppies in the room, but my internal radar zeroed in on only this one. As I approached her, I realized that she had multi-colored striated bands of fawn, brown, rust, chestnut, chocolate, and black—with a white belly, chest and collar around her neck. I had never heard of or noticed what the breeder called “brindle” coloring! By this time the puppy was in my arms, licking my face as though she had been waiting forever, and I had finally arrived. When I noticed a large spot of brindle color in the center of the white on the back of her neck, there was no question about it—this was the dog that Peter had dreamed and prayed into my heart!
Since my husband’s death when the boys were babies, our family had felt fractured to me…incomplete. But when Lady joined our family, I somehow felt like part of the hole left by his passing was filled. For the next thirteen years she was an integral part of our family who had the amazing ability to convince each of us separately that she loved us best.
…and I learned an incredible lesson about the power of faith and prayer!
How to Stay
Married and
Love It!
by
Nancy Landrum
